


Apology Accepted

by gala_apples



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Arguing, Breathplay, Kink Shaming, M/M, Polyamory
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-16
Updated: 2012-09-16
Packaged: 2017-11-14 09:50:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,427
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/513954
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gala_apples/pseuds/gala_apples
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rodney doesn't have good experiences coming out as bi or kinky, so he warns John and Ronon not to. They take it the wrong way. Trying to explain himself, Rodney manages to luck into something excellent.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Apology Accepted

Rodney is not impressed by his list of things to do. It's ridiculous actually, the amount of shit he has to get done. Of course, not a single task is going to be pleasant to complete. That's the way to-do Rodney's lists always end up, a handful of hideous chores. They wouldn't have time to gather and be on a list if they weren't things he'd rather procrastinate until the last possible moment than do.

Apart from the things like figure out how to kill all the Wraith, and solve all Ancient technology, his main priority is making people not hate him. The shunning thing is getting really old, really quickly. Rodney has changed in his time in the Pegasus galaxy. He needs friends now.

Primarily this will be achieved by making John be his friend again. Ronon will be easily sated, a shiny new weapon and smuggling in a shipment of cheese from Earth. At the very most, Rodney will have to volunteer to spar with him and get his ass kicked. Teyla will forgive him in her own sweet time, if she’s even still mad. She has this strange everlasting capacity for tolerance. All his staff that are on his case on John’s behalf will stop accidentally knocking over Rodney's coffee if they see that John’s forgiven him. John will be the difficult one. The last time he upset John this much he had blown up a planet after promising he had it under control.

After waiting thirty minutes for John and Ronon to show up for breakfast, he goes to their room. Rodney knocks this time, rather than letting his ATA gene get it. He's learned his lesson. John opens the door, and Rodney takes a step forward only for it to whoosh closed.

"I told you before, get the fuck out of my room!" John shouts clearly audible through the door. Rodney continues knocking on the wall. "Seriously Rodney, fuck off!"

When the door whooshes again he smiles in triumph, only to be let down. It's not John, it’s Ronon. Not the man he wanted to see. He’d planned on settling things with Ronon after settling with John, so everyone wouldn’t jeer him when Ronon kicked his ass in the training room.

"Rodney, go away. John’s pretty pissed off. I get it. You're one of the ‘if I don't see it it doesn't bother me’ kind of people. Fine. But John’s pissed. Give him a few days to cool off.” For the second time in as many minutes, the door closes in his face. This time there’s no anger in the gesture, or at least as little anger as Ronon Dex can have. Still, the message is clear; you're not wanted.

Rodney paces the hallways for some time before he decides to resettle in the cafeteria. There he can sit and poke at his belief system without having his coffee disrespected. If something insane happens, as per norm, he’ll be notified. Until then, he should figure out if he really believes he’s wrong, or if he’s just saying so for friendship’s sake.

When he found out about John, Rodney warned him not to be outwardly gay because his military so-called-friends would hurt him for it. A shitty fact of life, but a fact nonetheless. The moment Rodney realised it wouldn’t be just scientists going to Atlantis, but military as well, he lost all thoughts of revealing himself. Being bisexual, it would be far simpler, safer, to only comment on women, even if he was attracted to McCalister’s hands. It’s not as though he was ridiculing either John or Ronon, or disgusted by what he walked in on. There was just a strategy to this sort of thing. One that John was vehemently opposed to, as it turned out.

He watches as the room slowly fills up around him. Today's meal appears to be chicken with different sauces. No one sits beside him, but Rodney isn't expecting anyone to. He’s given up for today. He’s sure he has, right up to the moment when he’s crossing the mess and insinuating himself between his best friend and the boyfriend. His hand rests lightly on Ronon's shoulder as he says "I need to talk to you."

"Actually, I believe what you need to do is fuck right off." Cadman's hand is smaller than his, but that doesn't stop it from hurting when she rips his hand off Ronon's shoulder. Her nails are sharp digging into his palm.

"No, I know. I get it. We're all very mad at Rodney. I get it. But I still need to talk to Ronon."

"Why? So you can tell him not to be a faggot too? Do they sit too close together at lunches? Does it bother you?" He's not entirely sure who's said it, though it sounds like Peters’ voice. He doesn't look around, just maintains his gaze on Ronon.

"I seriously, seriously need to talk to Ronon. I'm not planning on saying anything offensive. I just need to talk!" Oh crap, that's not how it's supposed to go. Getting angry at Ronon doesn't help anything.

Ronon leans in and kisses John quickly before standing. Rodney can't help but watch. He’s always ridden both ends of the exhibitionist-voyeur spectrum. “Where to?”

Where is nowhere special. They’re hardly even out of the mess, Rodney can still see the side of John’s head. It’s good enough though, since there’s no one listening in. “I need you to talk to John for me. Tell him I didn’t mean what I said. Or rather, I did, but it came out wrong. That I said it right, but he heard it wrong. I-”

“You talk to John,” he replies in a tone that reveals he’d rather relay a message from the Wraith.

“As you’ve oh so eloquently put, he’s pissed at me and won’t listen.”

“Talk later, then.”

“Do I seem like the kind of person that’s satisfied with waiting?”

In response Ronon jerks his head, his huge cables of hair waving. Rodney’s not sure how John catches it, when he’s standing right beside Ronon and he can only see John’s jaw, but he must see it because he’s crossing the room in seconds. John doesn’t even have time to ask what’s going on before Ronon’s talking over him. “John, shut up. Rodney’s being Rodney, he won’t shut up. I don’t want to be interrupted every five minutes because he wants to talk to you.” Ronon turns back to him. “Say it, then go away.”

Rodney gets the distinct feeling this will be the last chance he has to plead his case. He aims for a good argument, and mostly succeeds in blathering. “Okay. I wasn’t saying don’t be gay, or be ashamed about being gay. I was saying the common person shouldn’t know because the common person is a stupid jerk. It’s like kink. You wouldn’t announce that Ronon was spanking you when I walked in because they’d have stupid opinions about kinkiness. Just like I wouldn’t tell any of the guys with great hands that I want them to choke me.”

Atlantis is not a safe place to be out about being kinky. Rodney hasn’t gone so long without breathplay since he was a teenager. There was that dry spell between realising doing it himself with a doorknob and a belt was a terrible idea, and finding someone he could talk into doing it. Ultimately though there’s not much of a contest between asphyxiation and Ancient tech.

John does not appear to have bonded over their shares interest in kink. In face, Rodney can tell from his expression that John’s about to say something stupid before he even opens his mouth.“Just because you’re gay you had to get someone to help you kill yourself? Rodney-”

And that is both enough kink denigration for one night, and the exact reason he’s not out. “I’m not trying to kill myself because I’m gay. For one thing erotic asphyxia is not synonymous with suicide. For another I was into it way before I realised I like both versions of blonde. We’re talking about teen age and twenty six. For another, I’m not gay, I’m bisexual. Still would do Carter in a hot second. And-”

“I’ll do it.”

Rodney looks at Ronon. “Just because you want to strangle me on an hourly basis-”

“It’s a trust game. We played them on Sateda. Falling off heights, expecting to be caught. Jogging in place with someone behind you following your movements with a knife on your thigh.” 

This is one hundred percent not where he thought this conversation would go. He didn’t want a hook up, just his friends back. But if he can take this, he wants it. He just needs to make sure Ronon understands this isn’t quite the same. “It’s not just trust. I do like it, you know. Sexually. But I’ll try not...You don’t have to touch me below the belt. And only if it’s okay with John.”

“We’re not as exclusive as everyone thinks we are. Teyla joins us, sometimes. You just always seemed as straight as she is. And your ‘never come out of the closet ever’ speech didn’t really help. But you’ve explained, and we forgive you. Better Ronon than someone you work with. I think Zelenka would actually try to kill you.”

Rodney actually likes to think Zelenka is his closest friend, apart from his team, but he lets it slide. He can stay quiet, sometimes.

“You want to try this now?”

“That was awful quick. I mean, this is me not looking a gift horse in the mouth, but that’s sort of a split second decision to, you know. Get it on.” Rodney’s more used to having to cajole people into a one night stand.

John shrugs. “No missions, no unofficial but required tasks, no current injuries. Who knows if something distracting will happen tomorrow?” 

Rodney starts going towards their bedroom, then stops. “Lead on.” He probably shouldn’t try to take charge of the whole thing.

John does lead on. Rodney hardly lets himself believe it until the door is whooshing closed, this time with him on the inside of it.

“Hold this.” Ronon passes him a stone for sharpening knives. “Drop it if you’re telling me to stop.”

Rodney takes it. He hardly thinks he’ll need to safeword, but he might as well placate Ronon. Anything to make this work. He hopes this works. If Ronon can’t do this Rodney will just give up on humans and hope that somewhere in the glut of unclassified Ancient tech there is a choking machine.

“Shouldn’t you have a safeword too?” John asks. “You know, in case you change your mind halfway. You don’t have to do this, Ronon.”

“I want to do this. I’ve missed this. McKay wants something and I can do it and you can’t. I can do it with him, not with you. Doesn’t make him better.”

Rodney doesn’t want this in order to break up their relationship. He’s inordinately pleased Ronon managed to say it in a way he couldn’t.

For the few moments it takes Rodney to step back and Ronon to chase him, all he can focus on is the steady inhale exhale of his lungs working on automatic. He can feel cool air entering his nostrils, the slight sway of his body when his chest expands. And then Ronon is casting a shadow over him, the tips of his shoes nudged against his. Rodney loosens his stance, but keeps a strong grip on the stone. He doesn’t want to accidentally drop it and give anyone the wrong impression.

Ronon’s hand descends onto his face. His fingers are tight over Rodney’s mouth, index finger jammed against the underside and thumb pinching down on his right nostril. He can breathe, but just barely. The palm of Ronon’s hand seems to stretch with each breath, like a balloon. Rodney’s never once seen Ronon using moisturizer, but his hand smells like cream -the plain milky kind, not anything scented- more with each damp exhale.

Ronon looks him right in the eye, and it’s the kind of look that has Rodney clenching his stone even tighter than before. He must like what he sees; it makes him complete the scene. Ronon raises his other arm and presses it against Rodney’s throat. His head grinds into the wall, and maybe the pressure should hurt, but it’s really only a turn on. Pinned the way he is, he can’t breathe. It clicks in his head over and over again, like the shrill beeping of a incorrect password in a dangerous situation, the kind that has Ronon and Teyla holding their guns and John begging him for miracles. He can’t breathe, he can’t breathe, hecan’t _breathe_ , it’s all the adrenaline without any of the responsibility. And by god, is that hot.

Rodney knows his lower half is aroused, but it’s not his primary interest. Even when Ronon lets go and Rodney slumps against the wall he only cares about the sweet air he’s suddenly able to gasp in. Inhaling for the first time is like shooting the Wraith when it’s hand is already unbuttoning your shirt. Of course it’s his focus. How could anything else be? Then John steps into the spot Ronon vacated and decides to stick his hand down Rodney’s pants. At that point Rodney starts caring about his cock a lot. Evidently a handjob is something John can do without freaking out.

He’s got no metaphor for coming. It’s just an orgasm, there’s no other way to say it. He doesn’t say anything at all, just half croaks a moan. It’s when Rodney’s mind has a chance to reboot that he remembers the etiquette of this kind of thing. “So, post sex debrief-”

John wrinkles his nose. “Can we not call it that? It makes me think Woolsey is about to step in.”

Ronon shrugs. “I liked it. You liked it. John liked it. I don’t think Teyla would like the choking, but she might like the sex. Wouldn’t mind just fucking you either. I vote we do this again.”

Rodney looks at John. He shrugs too. “Can’t do what Ronon did. But I’d watch. Chiming in as a third, I’d like sex too.”

To Rodney, breathplay is part of sex. But he can understand not wanting it. He wouldn’t want John’s spanking from three days ago. Everyone has their own kinks, and having his met sporadically is a thousand times better than another dry spell.


End file.
